Cliff Diving
by Maudlin Mush
Summary: Johnny and Roy display their talent at rappelling down cliffs.
1. Chapter 1

**Cliff Diving **

**by MM**

disclaimer: The characters (and they certainly are!) do not belong to me. Honest, I do know how to write stuff other than angst! Maybe. As always I'll help 'em up, dust them off, give 'em a smooch and send them back when I'm done.

rating: T

**Chapter 1: **In which Hank fills in forms and Kel pulls out gravel.

Mike Stoker leaned back in his chair and stretched his long, lanky, body. He silently luxuriated in the prolonged peace and quiet that filled the station. The squad was out on a run, Chet and Marco were shooting hoop and Cap was filling in more paperwork. He sipped at a perfectly made cup of coffee and flipped to the next section of paper.

"That fresh coffee I smell?" Hank Stanley asked his engineer from his office. He didn't want to commit to walking into the kitchen until he knew for sure.

"Yep, just made it," Mike called back. "Want me to bring you a cup?"

"That'd be great, pally," the captain answered. He pushed the completed requisition forms into the inter-county envelop, wrapping the red string around the cardboard 'button'. Another form bites the dust!

Stoker carried in two mugs and a few cookies from the jar. One of 'C' shifts spouses had baked and they were enjoying the leftovers. Setting the mugs down, Mike snagged a chair and sat down.

"Catching up?" he inquired politely. Hank snorted.

"Not bloody likely," he replied waving at a stack of paperwork. "I think it's breeding." Mike gave the pile a critical look.

"Hmmm, I would put it past accounting and requisitions to develop self-generating forms," he said, poking at the seemingly innocuous pile. He watched as Stanley sniffed the coffee appreciatively and sip in some hot liquid.

"Ah, untouched by Kelly's hands," Cap quipped, earning a grin on his engineer's face.

"It is amazing he's never learned to make drinkable coffee," Mike said. "I had Johnny trained the first month he was here. But Kelly's a lost cause." They sat in companionable silence, the sounds of the basketball game drifting through the open door.

Desoto put his hands on his hips as he glared at his partner.

"And I say you ARE going to see a doctor at Rampart!" he said as sternly as he could. Said partner simply cocked an eye up at him.

"Roy, they'll just clean it out and put a bandage on it," he grumbled. "If I'm lucky. If I'm not and I get Morton I'll be held overnight for observation!"

"You won't be held overnight, but you will get that cleaned out!" Roy insisted as they followed the ambulance attendants to their vehicle. The senior paramedic pushed his partner in and passed him the equipment. This way Gage would be inside the hospital and much easier to corner than if he drove the squad in.

"Hey man, I got ta go in," complained the Tom, the victim. "If I gotta go then you do too! I saw how you slid down the hill to me!" Johnny glared at the grinning man on the stretcher. Then he threw up his hands.

"Ok, Ok!" he capitulated. "I'll have one of the docs clean me out." Actually, he was relieved Desoto had raised a fuss. The abraided skin felt like it was carrying half a cliff's worth of gravel embedded in it. He couldn't clean it out himself and it was a sure bet Roy wouldn't do it, either. Slamming the back doors, Roy hit the window twice and went to stow the rest of the equipment in the squad.

First things first, the hang glider who hit the cliff and broke at least his leg, was wheeled into exam room 3. Morton was already there ready to take a look and decide on treatment.

"Remember, fireboy, go find a doc!" Tom, grinned. Morphine certainly took care of the pain. Morton looked up briefly.

"You get hurt, John?" he asked in his somewhat disinterested tone. He was secretly glad he was already occupied as the paramedic was not the easiest patient to deal with.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered rebelliously. "A little scrape."

"And picked up enough gravel to start a construction company," Tom snickered. Oooh, he was feeling no pain! Gage glared at him.

"Go see Dixie," Morton said. "We're fine in here." He turned his considerable attention to the patient and shut all other concerns out. The paramedic turned and went in search of the head nurse.

"Hi Dixie, doc," Johnny said with a lop-sided grin. Kel Brackett looked up, noting the shredded shirt. Dixie, too, swept her eyes over the younger man and pursed her lips, waiting.

"Could someone check my side out? I slipped down a cliff and..." Gage started only to have the nurse immediately pick up his wrist to take his pulse.

"This is serious, Kel," she said with complete sincerity. "Johnny Gage is admitting to needing treatment." The doctor leaned forward with the same false concern.

"You're right, Dix," he said. "We'd better get set up in 2 and order a skull series." Johnny frowned and pulled his hand back.

"Boy, see if I do what Roy tells me again!" he growled as the twosome chuckled.

"Sorry, Johnny," Dixie apologized as she came around the counter with Brackett.

"It was way too easy," Kel added as he took a peek under the torn shirt, grimacing. Yep, that would need to be cleaned out! "Come on, hose jockey. I'll even use a sharp needle to administer the lidocane!" With pretend grumbling Johnny allowed the nurse and doctor to guide him into the empty exam room.

They were in the thick of pulling out gravel when the exam room opened and Roy and Joe Early came in.

"Oh my heart!" Early grabbed his chest. "My heart! Johnny Gage is actually submitting to treatment!" Roy grinned.

"So, who nailed him?" Roy asked. Brackett didn't look up as he continued to pull the cliff out of the paramedic's side and back.

"No one, he asked," Kel said in a preoccupied tone.

"And you'd better drop it, you two," Dixie scolded, "or he won't ever do that again!" Both men chuckled.

"Sorry, Johnny, it was just too good to pass up," the older doctor said as he patted the man's shoulder.

"You know, I'd say something nasty, but there's a lady present," Gage mumbled as the tweezers went back in for another hunk.

"Oh, darn," Dixie pouted. "I was hoping to learn a few new words!" Early moved around to view the damages.

"Wow, you really did a number there," he commented as he watched. "Want me to take over for a minute?"

"Yes, that would be good," Kel said as he relinquished the tweezers. "We might need some more lidacane pulled up. It's a little more extensive than we initially thought."

"Looks like you'll get a couple stitches, too," Joe said as he plonked a piece of gravel in the tray Dixie held.

"Wonderful," he groused.

"Cheer up, partner," Roy said. "At least we're missing Chet's latest attempt at lunch." That was a good point! "Tell you what, since we're out of service I'll go order up some lunch for us to go. Nice big roast beef sandwich?" That brought a grin to his partner's face.

"Yeah, with mustard! And chips! Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten. With a matching smile Roy took the money and left to fetch lunch.

It took another half hour to finish, the wound carefully irrigated to get out any leftover dirt. Then Early added a dozen stitches or so to pull it all back together. Gauze, tape, and a pat on the back and Gage was good to go. He thanked the comedy team that treated him and gratefully joined his partner out in the squad.

"Squad 51 available," he said into the mike. "Squad 51," came the reply.

"Next time someone has to go down a cliff, it's gonna be me, pally," Roy said as he started to back into the station.

"Ok, next time you can," John said amicably. He'd agree to anything to get at his sandwich. They hopped out of the cab and went into the kitchen. Johnny secured two tall glasses and poured out iced tea while Roy divvied up the chow. Cap popped his head out the door.

"Hey guys, what took so long?" he asked.

"Uhm, we were generating more paperwork for you," Roy said sheepishly. Every injury had to be documented. He heard a muffled laugh and realized Mike was in the office as well.

"WHAT??" Stanley nearly screamed. He came out of the office followed closely by his second in command. Both paramedics looked up with identical innocent expressions. Gage seemed a little too clean and he settled his captainly gaze on him.

Squirming, the younger of the pair stood up and displayed his gauze patch.

"A dozen stitches," he admitted.

"Hey, I'll have you know Johnny asked for the doc!" Roy defended him. "And we agreed the next time we have to rappel down a cliff, I go first!" Gage sat back down and picked up his sandwich. No way he was going to miss out on lunch now!

Cap reached over and snagged the paramedic's bag of chips. "Half the bag and I do the reports here," he stated. "Otherwise, bag up the lunch and come into my office." Gage sneered with a full mouth. That was blackmail! Grudgingly he nodded and continued to chew. With a chuckle, Mike walked into the office and pulled out the correct forms and captain's log book. He set these in front of Hank and then swiped a handful of chips from Desoto.

"Hey!" Roy complained. "I didn't have the accident!" Mike smile sweetly.

"Yeah, but you're going down the rope next!" the engineer said logically. "This will keep you honest!" Grumbling at the unfairness of it all the older paramedic watched as half his chips disappeared into Mike.

______________________________


	2. Chapter 2 Roy's Descent

**Chapter 2: **In which Roy discovers the joys of going first.

_______________________________________________

"Station 51, man trapped on cliff. Palos Verdes Peninsula," the dispatcher relayed after tones had played. "Palos Verdes Drive South, one mile south of Hawthorne Blvd. Time out: 15:47."

"Station 51, KMG 365," Hank responded. He tore off two sheets of paper, handed one to the squad, and then walked across to the engine.

"I get to go down the rope fi-irst!" Roy sing-songed to his partner. Johnny rolled his eyes and then started giving the driver directions.

It took over 20 minutes to reach the waving people at the parking area. They directed the squad and engine down an emergency road closer to the cliffs. Mike carefully parked the engine parallel so that ropes could be secured to the rig.

"We were jogging and Carl stopped to stretch his hamstring!" a young man in tie-dyed t-shirt and dark shorts explained. "He was right there and then the earth just dropped out from under him!" Lying on his stomach, Johnny peered over the side. Maybe 20 feet below him he could see the jogger sitting and leaning on a small ledge.

"Hey! You ok?" he called down. "Hurt anything?"

"Just my pride,man!" Carl called back up. "I just kind of slid down here. Don't even think I cut my skin. Sure as heck can't get back up by myself, though!"

"Don't worry, my partner'll be down to check you out," Gage told the man.

Roy was already at his partner's side, belted and fastened to a rope. Over his shoulder he'd thrown a second belt. With a grin he nodded at Marco and Chet and began his descent. Within moments he was perched against the cliff helping Carl get the belt around his waist. He did a quick check and agreed that nothing seemed to be wrong with the jogger, save a small scrape on his calf.

"Ok, Carl," Roy explained, "I'm going to fasten you to the rope and they'll pull you right up." He unfastened the rope from his belt and began to wrap it around the clasp on his patient's belt. Before he had refastened his own clasp, the rope slipped slightly as Marco and Chet let a little more line out.

That was all the movement necessary as the ledge the two men were on collapsed. Before he could get a good grip on the rope, Roy went down. Fast. Another 25 feet to the rocks below. Carl watched helplessly as he dangled from the rope.

"ROY!" Johnny screamed as he watched his partner's body bounce like a rag doll before coming to the bottom. He jumped up, ran to the squad, and secured a belt around him. Then he snagged a rope and immediately slipped one end through the loop on the side of the engine. This was fastened to his belt and he raced over to the cliff once more.

By now Chet and Marco had pulled Carl up and with Stoker's help the jogger was safe on top.

"Get the drug box, biophone and a stokes," he said shortly as he played out the other end of the rope and launched himself without effort over the edge of the cliff. He repelled down in record time and was soon at his friend's side.

"Roy?" he asked gently as he began a visual check. Two blue eyes opened and looked up.

"Oops?" the older paramedic offered. Johnny was still too worried to react. He began running his hands over legs and arms before opening Roy's coat and checking his torso. Roy grimaced as fingers probed ribs.

"Hurt?" a concerned partner asked.

"Uh, yeah," he answered.

"Hurt like, 'I think they're broken and sticking into my lungs', hurt," Johnny asked. "Or hurt like "man, it's uncomfortable to breath', hurt?" Roy pondered the extremes.

"Mostly it's uncomfortable to breath," he decided. "And my leg. It's stinging." Checking out the indicated limb the younger paramedic could see the dirt and rock embedded in flesh. Nothing appeared to be broken, but it still looked painful. He carefully checked the 'victim's' neck and head.

"Surprise, surprise," he muttered as he lightly traced the lump forming on the left side of the skull. "Hit your head as well, pally." He looked up the cliff towards the waiting firemen.

"Send down the stokes!" he called up.

"I don't need the stokes!" whined Roy. He sounded a lot like another paramedic on that cliff.

"Oh, so now you know how to fly?" Gage countered. "Could of fooled me the way you plummeted like a lead weight!" Roy grumbled.

"Just pull me up by the belt," he griped. John reached over and pressed on his ribs.

"OUCH!" the response was immediate.

"Don't think so," Gage said smugly. Once the stokes was down he expertly flipped Desoto into it and fastened the assortment of buckles. Then he moved back holding a rope fastened to the bottom and called for his crew mates to pull it up. By slowly feeding out the lower rope he was able to keep the stokes from hitting the side of the cliff.

Once topside Hank refused to undo the buckles leaving the growling paramedic secure. He could tell Roy was hurt, although not too badly. But the man was showing as much restraint as his partner usually did and he didn't want any damages to be worsened. Cap watched as the other three men pulled their friend up and onto the top of the cliff. Shucking off belt and gloves Johnny hurried to the two victims.

Carl really was fine. He'd only scraped up one leg and signed a release form. His jogging buddy walked him back to the parking lot to take him home.

Roy was a different matter entirely. Between bruised ribs, banged-up leg and a good-sized bump on his skull he was in for a trip to the ER. Johnny took vitals and Hank called in.

"Rampart, this is Squad 51," he began. "Repeat, this is Squad 51, Rampart." Dixie looked up at the radio. Great, Johnny had to be hurt again since the Captain was calling in the vitals.

"Squad 51, this is Rampart," she confirmed. "Go ahead."

"Rampart, we have a male, 29 years old," Hank began. "He fell down a cliff. He is complaining of pain on his left rib cage..."

"I didn't complain!!" Roy sniped. This was carried over the radio and Dixie grinned.

"Rampart, he isn't complaining of pain, but there is bruising and it's tender to the touch," Stanley continued. "He has abrasions along his left leg and a swelling on the back left of his skull. Stand by for vitals." Brackett stepped up beside his favorite nurse and began reading over her shoulder.

"Johnny?" he asked.

"Nope," she said. "Roy." The doctor was surprised. Roy didn't often get hurt.

"Rampart, bp is 130 over 85, pulse is 95, respiration is 24," the captain's voice carried over the speaker.

"51, start an IV with D5W," he directed. "Splint the leg and bring him in." They could hear Roy complaining as Hank confirmed the orders.

"And 51, tell Roy to suck it up," Dixie directed with a smirk.

"Or Joe and I will be unavailable!" Brackett added.

"Rampart, will relay the messages," Hank said. "51, out."

If the group at ER thought Johnny was difficult, they had another 'think' coming. Normally calm and stoic, Roy was positively growling at them as they began stripping off his clothes. Johnny just stood at the side with a silly grin on his face. Now that he knew his pally was ok he could enjoy the role reversal.

"Roy Desoto!" Dixie reprimanded as he tried to jerk his leg out of her hands. "You're worse than Johnny!" Snickering from the corner. The injured man glared in his partner's direction.

"Just lie back and let 'em do their thing," Johnny suggested. Early was checking out his pupils while Brackett joined the nurse in deciding how to handle the leg.

"We need some skull x-rays," he determined, "as well as a chest shot of those ribs and one of his leg just to be sure there are no fractures." Another low growl emanated from below his hands.

"And if you don't stop growling mister," Dixie threatened, "we're going to muzzle you!"

"Roy, why are you so combative?" Joe finally asked as he looked down at the paramedic. No answer.

"Probably because of me sliding down the other cliff earlier," Johnny offered. "He kept teasing that it was his turn!" Roy rolled his eyes. As usual Junior had nailed it.

"Well, Roy," Brackett said with a twitchy grin, "you did a much better job than Johnny! He only got a couple stitches. You get x-rays and a night in Hotel Rampart!"

Before Roy could respond the door opened and the x-ray unit was rolled in. "I'll go call Joanne and Cap for you," Johnny said. "Then I'll be ba-ack," the same sing-songy voice that Roy used came back to haunt him. He finally laughed and released all the tension he'd been holding in.

"Ask her to bring me some clothes," Roy said. "Some one cut off my pants!" Dixie just smirked and patted his good leg. Good humor restored, the older paramedic submitted to the technician.

An half-hour later doctors and nurse were peering at a variety of x-rays while Johnny kept Roy company.

"You know, Junior, you're probably gonna draw Brice," Desoto teased him. Gage just smirked.

"Nope, Bellingham," he countered. "Cap told me he'd call when he got to the station."

"You'd better keep my squad clean!" Roy threatened. The animal had a reputation for leaving a trail of trash wherever he went. The thought of spilled sodas and candy wrappers figured prominently in his wake.

"Don't worry, pally, I'll hose her out!" John promised. Before he could protest the medical consortium came over.

"Well, Roy, you've got that old Gage luck," Brackett said. "No breaks, no fractures and only a mild concussion."

"So I can go home?" he eagerly asked.

"No," Early said. "We're watching you overnight."

"I'll get you a room with a view," Dixie promised.

"She likes you better than me!" Johnny sounded hurt. But the twinkle in his eyes negated that. "I'd better get back to the barn. I'll check in on you later." With a smile the younger paramedic headed out the door leaving a disgruntled partner behind.

"Oh, and next time?" he sing-songed back. "I get to go down the rope fi-irst!"


End file.
